


Gwen Stacy--Inflatable Hero

by dmarsh14



Category: Marvel WG AU
Genre: Body Inflation, Breast Inflation, Inflation, Other, helium inflation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-04
Updated: 2016-04-04
Packaged: 2018-05-31 05:40:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6458086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dmarsh14/pseuds/dmarsh14
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Following a mishap during her high-school internship at Oscorp, Gwen Stacy develops some...unusual superpowers. When a classmate, rather socially isolated, acquires similar powers, Gwen needs to step up and use her powers however she can.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gwen Stacy--Inflatable Hero

Gwen Stacy, working on “grunt-work” experiments in the biochem lab at her Oscorp internship, suddenly heard an alarm klaxon, followed by a call for emergency rescue to Engineering R&D Section 12-D. She remembered that the other intern from Midtown Science High, Jemma Morris, was assigned to that section. Still in her white lab coat, for once forgetting to wash her hands after working with the biochemical substances in the lab, she instantly ran for the trouble spot.  
She’d never really been friends with Jemma. Jemma wasn’t really the friendly type; she was often eager to take offence at the least perceived slight, and didn’t talk much to, well, anyone. But she got the other Oscorp internship, so Gwen felt some kinship with her.  
Arriving at the lab, she slipped in after the emergency team. Jemma was flailing in a huge vat, as the rescuers tried to reach her.  
They quickly got hold of her and hauled her out, heading for the chemical showers, trying to get her cleaned off before anything horrible happened to her. While they were heading out, the R&D scientists who worked there, stood out of the way of the rescue team, complaining about the incident.  
“Stupid child!” one groused. “What was she doing in here anyway? And without any adult supervision!”  
The other added, “she messed up our safety record!”  
Jemma clearly heard them, since her head whipped around, sending her hair flying, and some of the viscous fluid she’d just been struggling in flew all over. Unnoticed, some of it splattered on Gwen’s hands and wrists. Before anyone could realize what had happened, the biochemical residue on her hands somehow catalyzed the fluid, and it quickly absorbed into her skin. Absently, still worried about Jemma, Gwen scratched at her hand, further rubbing the fluid into her skin.

For Gwen, the rest of the day passed quietly. She went back to her work at the biochemistry lab, not even realizing what it might mean that she was still rubbing her hands and wrists where the fluid from the vat absorbed in. She took a few minutes here or there during the day to try and find out what was happening with Jemma, and what was in that vat. While she did find a few things out, she was mostly at a loss for what they actually meant, and she went back to her own work, maybe a little regretfully, but stymied in her research all the same.

For Jemma, though, the rest of the day was anything but quiet. After the safety shower, she was sprayed down with some kind of liquid (really nasty). The scientists _said_ it was to neutralize the fluid’s properties before they affected her. Finally, the scientists subjected her to test after test, they said to make sure she wasn’t affected by the chemical, but she began to believe they really hoped she was contaminated and they could have a live subject to test that stuff on.  
They _said_ it was just a superstrong elastic formulation, meant to replace latex balloons and other such inflatables, but she just knew that Oscorp had secret deals with the military (or who knew who else); they could want any result at all, and probably wouldn’t care too much about any unfortunate victims, as long as they could hide their responsibility for any “accidents”.  
And the way they treated her! She’d heard them complaining about her. And, okay, yeah, she probably shouldn’t have been in there alone, but it was a convenient shortcut back to her assignment lab, and it wasn’t her fault she was running late. Really, the cafeteria was way too far from her lab, and who could get by with only a half an hour for lunch anyway?  
But, easy or difficult, the day ended eventually for both of them. Jemma went home to her parents’ house, after sulking and resisting through the last of the tests, staring through the scientists when they tried to get her to stay for yet more stupid tests. “Have you found any evidence, any at all, that that goop has had any effect on me at all?” she finally snarled.  
“Well, no, but many of the effects could take hours…” one of them stammered.  
“Then I’m leaving,” she shot back, already out the door.  
After she left, the two scientists kept analyzing their results. “No evidence of anything...yet,” said one.  
“What about the hydrogen catalyst effect?” asked his partner.  
“Nothing that I saw. I think we’re--I mean, she’s in the clear.”

Meanwhile, Gwen headed out, washing her hands well this time, to meet up with Peter Parker and Mary Jane Watson. They met at a diner near Oscorp, to grab dinner. True, it was a bit awkward, since both MJ and Gwen were interested in Peter, and were wary about the other, but, even if MJ didn’t, Gwen knew about Peter’s...extra activities, and how they prevented him from daring to get involved with anyone, so neither of them could deepen their relationship with him anyway.  
They enjoyed their dinner, joking and gossiping about various classmates and school happenings. To be honest, they stayed quite late, and were among the last people in the place as it started to slow down from the dinner rush.  
As they loitered at their booth, Gwen suddenly let out a long, loud belch. “Oh,” she stammered, embarrassed. “Excuse me.”  
Both Peter and MJ laughed it off, telling her it was no problem. But Gwen started rubbing her stomach, moaning softly. After another burp, MJ noticed, and asked, “are you all right, Gwen?”  
Smacking her lips, trying to taste the burp, Gwen answered absently, “I’m not sure. I feel kinda bloated, and those...burps don't taste, well, right.”  
A little uncomfortable, but still a scientist, Peter asked her, “what do you mean? What do they taste like?”  
Still absently rubbing her stomach, now grumbling audibly, Gwen thought about it, then answered, “not much of anything. Certainly not like any food I've had today, let alone this meal.” She interrupted herself with another burp, longer than the previous. Smacking her lips again, she concluded, “that one was almost...acidic.”  
Confused, MJ replied, “but you haven't had any orange juice, or soda. Or anything acidic.”  
Shaking her head, Gwen said, “no. That's just it. Soda, or citrus, any food, won't just taste acidic; they'll have the tastes of the food. There's no food taste, just the acidic.”  
“I think we should get you to a doctor,” said Peter.  
“I’m okay, Peter,” Gwen argued. “It's nothing.”  
“No, it's not,” said MJ, pointing at Gwen’s stomach. Gwen and Peter looked down to see what she was pointing at. Gwen moaned aloud and Peter gasped; Gwen’s belly was visibly swollen, bulging noticeably. After a few seconds, all three realized that it was slowly, but steadily inflating.  
Peter stood quickly and pulled Gwen out of the seat. MJ pushed her from behind, over her resistance. Dropping their money on the table, the two dragged Gwen out, thinking of the closest medical facility.  
Outside, Gwen shook off their hands. “Okay!” She said. “Stop dragging me around like a sack and let’s find a med clinic. I have to get this checked out.”  
Peter went towards the corner, thinking to look for a cab. MJ pulled out her phone, searching for the closest clinic, following behind her two friends. Both intent on their tasks, neither one noticed Gwen still swelling, faster now, and still speeding up.  
Her hands went to her midsection, as her belly expanded further, pulling tighter against her blouse. Little flashes of skin became visible between the straining buttons, growing larger as she kept inflating. All too soon, other parts of her body started to grow; her breasts, the rest of her midsection, even her butt, all started puffing out as more and more gas filled her. Before long, the middle button on her blouse, straining over her belly button, popped off. Her skin, bloated and taut, bulged out of the new opening in the shirt, and the pressure sent the rest of the buttons off in fast succession, leaving the shirt flapping loose at her back. Her breasts swelled like her belly, filling and overflowing her bra, which somehow managed to hold on. Suddenly, she saw something out of the corner of her eye, and put her hands to her face; just as she’d feared, her cheeks were bloating up with the inflation of the rest of her body. They were already more than twice their normal width, and still expanding. She felt her arms resisting the bending as they ballooned, too, going straight out from her bloating body. She bent her knees, feeling them resist too, and knew that they were bloating with whatever was happening.  
Gwen stumbled and fell to her knees, spread wide now that they were so expanded. Groaning, muffled by the tightness of her inflated cheeks, she fell forward onto her hands. As she kept growing, her swelling belly started lifting her up off of her hands and knees. Her body rounded out, becoming nearly spherical as her whole body inflated relentlessly. Growing more frightened, Gwen felt her hands and knees losing touch with the ground as she blew up, her bloating belly and breasts, truly immense now, and still inflating faster than ever, pushing her arms and legs up out of reach of the ground. Oddly, though her cheeks filled and bloated as fast as the rest of her, she felt no trouble breathing.  
She made one last struggle, flailing her hands to contact the pavement. One hand hit hard, and the impact propelled her up, all the way off her feet. She wheeled her arms wildly, ending up righting herself. Now “standing” upright in midair, Gwen floated, yes, floated down softly, landing softly on her feet after several seconds of gentle drifting.  
Even through the whole event, Gwen’s mind still worked rapidly, trying to figure out what exactly was happening, and how it was even possible. Straining to move against the resistance of her still-growing body, Gwen pressed her hands against her bloated torso. It gave a bit, and she saw it bulge elsewhere. Oddly, she also felt fluid pressure inside her body shifting. Her body clearly was inflating like a balloon. Pushing harder, she brought her hands together and rubbed them against each other. Her skin felt smooth, dry. Pinching the back of one hand, she pulled the skin away, rubbing it lightly as she did. When she let go, the skin snapped back down with a sharp * _crack_ *. Almost like a latex party balloon.  
The implications shocked her, and her muscles went slack. Just for a moment, but that was enough for her still-expanding body, and their own steady swelling, to push her arms straight out from her body. She felt her legs pushed out, too, leaving her basically immobile. As she swelled ever larger, her clothing started to lose out. Her blouse, already popped open, now pulled away from her steadily-swelling body, tearing as her torso swelled larger and larger, and her rapidly-increasing waistline shredded her now-skin-tight pants, leaving the legs squeezing her calves and the top of the pants flapping loose against her knees as they tore and fell away from her body.  
Gradually, she felt herself lighten, impossibly becoming buoyant. Immobilized by her body’s new spherical shape, Gwen helplessly felt herself lift off the ground, bobbing upwards. She tried to scream through her tight bulging cheeks. Their incredible bloated size and tightness prevented her from getting much loudness, but she saw both Peter and MJ suddenly spin anyway, and notice her predicament.

Gaping, stunned, Peter just stared a second, as Gwen rose into the sky, totally round and bulging, just like a normal (if large) round latex balloon. Only her head and her limbs, splayed out wide, immobilized by the curve of her new shape, remained of her human form. In fact, only her forearms and calves were really visible, themselves bloated to near-spherical shape; her upper arms and thighs had already been enveloped by her bloated body, round and turgid, and her head was itself so bloated it looked like another little balloon fastened on top of her huge balloon-body. Well, those and her now-bulbous breasts too, now billowed out and already burst out of her bra, and looking like two (slightly) smaller balloons fastened on her chest, bobbing in the slight evening breeze and her body’s own wobbling turns.  
She rose steadily, already nearing the limits of even his Spider-ability to jump. Thinking fast now, he called out, “MJ! Go get help! I’ll try to find something to throw up to her!”  
Glancing to see that MJ, still gaping herself, turned to run for the corner without looking back, Peter _fwipp_ ed a web-line up to Gwen’s rounded body, catching her in the middle of her bulging midsection. With a quick jerk, he pulled her back down. His spider-strength made it easy to overcome her new buoyancy and get her back to the ground. Wrapping the web-line around his arm to hide it, Peter grabbed onto her leg, holding her down.  
Not wanting any official notice of her situation, Gwen called back to MJ. Or tried to. By now, her cheeks were so taut, filled up with gas, that try as she might, she couldn’t get even the least sound out. Finally, Peter called, “Mary Jane! Come back! I got her! We need to get to Oscorp’s facilities!”  
Running back, MJ said, “you’re floating! And you’re huge. How are we supposed to get you anywhere?”  
As MJ neared, Peter started struggling to hold Gwen’s buoyant balloon body down (to hide his spider-strength). He shrugged. “It’s a bit embarrassing, but she’s buoyant. We could just pull her anywhere we need to.”  
Gwen, blushing at her predicament and state of undress, quickly agreed. “Truh t’ kep meh outta saht, buh wuh havduh get t’ Osc’rp, now!” she mumbled through her massively inflated cheeks and face. Understanding her mumbled plea, Peter and MJ quickly moved to get her to Oscorp, while still trying to keep her out of sight of random passers-by.

As MJ scouted the route, and Peter tried to secretly pull her to Oscorp, and its labs, Gwen forced herself to trust them, and to think. She thought that her body had stabilized; neither the pressure nor the volume of her body seemed to be increasing anymore. Something jogged her memory of her research on Jemma’s accident that day, and she thought back to the project assigned to the vat she fell into. Some kind of liquid-state compound meant to revolutionize normal balloons. She recalled the formula of the compound and, using her biochemistry knowledge, she thought through how that compound might interact with human biology. Suddenly, she remembered the slight sting on her wrists and hands when Jemma was escorted past her. Given that the results were right in front of her, so to speak, she concluded she must have been dosed with the compound.  
A footnote on one report from the techs involved on the project referred to some kind of “hydrogen catalyst” effect. Gwen figured that, while they were working on a new material for balloons, the Oscorp techs might be working on a new method of self-inflation for those balloons. She knew that there were several methods for generating hydrogen gas from organic compounds, like those in biological systems.  
So, for right now, at least, that explained what must have happened to her. She could figure out the details at Oscorp. Now, was there any way to get rid of the damned hydrogen she already contained? It wasn’t just in her lungs or stomach, so normal human means of relieving pressure wouldn’t work well. She strained anyway, just to see if she could burp. And she did, squeezing out one, long and loud, through her stuffed cheeks, but while she did feel (at least, she thought she felt) some decrease in pressure, she didn't sink at all, so no luck with getting the hydrogen out.  
Now getting desperate, Gwen tensed her muscles, especially in her stomach and back. She felt an increase in pressure, and a sense of the internal hydrogen resisting, but by straining to her limits, she tightened her body, and was rewarded with some freedom of movement of her arms and legs, indicating a shrinkage of her spherical body. Scientifically curious now, as well as hopeful, Gwen tensed harder, and succeeded in squeezing the hydrogen down more.  
Panting now, she fought to increase the pressure of her muscles even further. In result, her body shrunk a little more, leaving her now just bloated and with large breasts and a bubble-butt, rather than being spherical like a real balloon. Keeping her muscles tensed, she looked down and saw that she was drifting lower. With the hydrogen getting denser as she squeezed, it was less buoyant. She relaxed, exhausted, and felt the gas leaving her head and arms and legs, redistributing through the rest of her bloated body.  
Struggling to her utmost, she started squeezing again, even harder, and adding her arms’ pressure once they became mobile again. As she kept the pressure up, she felt some cooling on her skin, and her descent sped up. As her feet touched the ground again, she suddenly realized the now-very-high pressure was likely pushing the tiny hydrogen molecules out through her pores, and it was cooling as it expanded back to normal air pressure.  
Repeating the cycle of tensing and relaxing, Gwen was able to, slowly, force the hydrogen out of her body, and let the gas in her head and limbs move into her main torso, then squeeze more out.  
Finally, exhausted, her whole body sore from the strain, sweating from the effort, Gwen collapsed to sit on the sidewalk. Peter and MJ leaned over her, and MJ said, “what happened?”  
Still panting, Gwen gasped out, “If...hydrogen gets...dense enough, it’s not...lighter than air anymore. I used...my abdominals to...squeeze the gas down.” She shrugged wearily, adding, “eventually I managed enough pressure to squeeze the gas out of my pores. I think.”  
“Are you okay, then?” MJ asked, still worried.  
Gwen shrugged again. “Right now, I hope so, but I still want to get into Oscorp, if we can, to run a few tests to see if it’s over, or if there’s more coming; and figure out exactly what’s happened.”

A quick sequence of tests later, Gwen had discerned that she had indeed been exposed to the mixture of compounds in the vat, and so her skin could stretch incredibly. Her body could generate hydrogen gas, using a catalytic process of the mixture, from carbohydrates in her food. It seemed that CO2 was a side product of the process. It wouldn’t add to her lift, but it would add volume. Another thing she’d have to deal with.  
She expected that a) just after eating, she would generate more hydrogen, and so would need to be more careful than usual, b) she would generate small amounts of hydrogen steadily (catalysts are not consumed in chemical reactions, so it would stay in her system indefinitely, generating hydrogen continuously), and c) she would likely need to eat much more than usual, so that her body would have enough nutrition from her meals, even with some being taken for the hydrogen generation. One other interesting point was that it seemed adrenaline, just like it sped up metabolism, also could increase the rate of hydrogen generation, as long as she had enough fuel for the catalyst to work on.  
She also quickly determined that her body was rather resistant to damage; which was a lucky thing, since if she inflated fully, a stray pin-prick could be dangerous, even fatal. She resolved then and there to work out, strengthening her core muscles, so she could squeeze out the hydrogen anytime she got too much. She even looked around online, to find ways to strengthen her facial muscles. If she was going to try to do anything useful with this, it wouldn’t do to have her face bloat up so much she couldn’t talk.  
She wondered what other controls she could get over her new...abilities. She suspected that, once she got her muscular control down, she might be able to keep the concentration of hydrogen gas out of particular parts of her body, and sending it to others, instead of just blowing up like a round party balloon.  
Over the next few weeks, she alternated her evenings between working on a treatment (a “cure” if you will) for her condition, and intense work-outs to build up her muscles, to control her size, shape, and hydrogen content. During those weeks, she also sought out Jemma, wondering if she got the same effects, and hoping to help her if she did. But it seemed that Jemma lost the internship after her accident, and they had no classes in common at school, and try as she might, Gwen couldn’t catch her after last period. She didn’t really have any idea where Jemma lived, or how to find out without revealing her interest. Finally, Gwen put Jemma out of her mind; she thought Jemma could handle herself well enough, and got on with her training regimen.

Of course, Jemma did have a similar accident happen. Fortunately, it was in her parents’ basement, alone. Suddenly, while sitting in her favorite room in her parents’ house (it was quiet and isolated), she started bloating up. Quickly (quicker than Gwen), her body was bloated totally round. Even her arms and legs swelled up, even as they were enveloped by her swelling body. Her breasts and butt inflated too, adding bulges to her new spherical balloon-body, and even her face inflated, trapping her inside her immobile ballooned shape. Filled with hydrogen, and expanded to almost half the volume of the basement room, Jemma floated up and got stuck on the ceiling, bobbing and bouncing helplessly against the drop-ceiling tiles of her parent’s basement.  
Like Gwen (honestly, she was just as smart, if more technically-minded), she quickly determined what had happened and, like Gwen, managed to get her body to expel the hydrogen gas build-up. Back to normal, she looked up at the door to the main floor and rolled her eyes. Her idiot parents didn’t even notice something was off.  
Afterward, she quickly hacked into Oscorp’s computer system (using a back-door she’d found and widened during her internship) to figure out exactly what was going on.  
Where Gwen spent her efforts trying to cure her condition and control it, Jemma worked on equipment and technology to let her use it, to the best results she could.  
For the next week or so after the “incident,” both Gwen and Jemma still kept it as secret as they could, each for her own reasons.

After school one day, Jemma snuck towards the cheerleader squad practice. Stupid, egotistical, overbearing airheads! They’d lorded it over the whole school, just because they were what everybody thought was beautiful. Stuck-up bitches. Well, now, she could beat them at their own game, Jemma thought with a tight, malicious grin.  
Just out of sight of the bimbo-squad, Jemma popped one of the pills she developed to increase the rate of hydrogen production, then secured the “girdle,” (the assembly she wore under her clothes to keep her midsection properly proportioned), checked the flesh-colored cheek guards (keeping her face from ballooning again), then released the bra cups and butt-cap to let them expand slightly.  
Looking down, she saw her chest balloon out as the hydrogen filled it, each breast swelling to easily an F-cup, or larger. Looking over her shoulder, she grinned fiercely as her butt billowed out bigger than J-Lo, or even Kim Kardashian. She wriggled a bit, adjusting her pants, now quite tight over her bulbous cheeks, and tugged her now-skin-tight shirt down to expose even more of her new expansive cleavage.  
Properly adjusted to show off her new assets, Jemma swaggered out, angling past the bouncing bimbos. One by one, they noticed her, and stopped their mindless routines to stare right at her. Grinning, she pretended to suddenly notice them.  
“Oh, hi!” she said. “How’s it going?” She was proud that she managed to speak more-or-less normally, even through the appliance on her face holding her cheeks stiff.  
The cheerleader queen bee just gaped at her a moment. Jemma turned to face her full-on. “Something wrong?” she asked.  
“Oh, my god!” the girl squealed. “What did you do? Stuff balloons down your shirt? Couldn’t take being ignored by the boys any more?”  
At that, the rest of the cheerleaders started laughing. Jemma reddened, not in embarrassment (no, really, not), but in rage (no, really).  
Seeing Jemma’s reaction, the queen bee dove in for the kill. “At least, you could have tried for something realistic. Those things look like volleyballs stuffed in your shirt. But,” she went on, looking behind Jemma, “that new ass of yours is impressive.”  
Jemma warily answered, “really?”  
“Yeah!” the queen bee finished. “Did your parents give you plastic surgery for your birthday or something? It even distracts a little bit from your new fat gut! Now that is truly impressive, sticking out and hanging over your shirt like that.”  
With the gales of laughter echoing in her ears, Jemma stood, stunned and immobilized. She hadn’t consciously realized it, but over the last few weeks, she had put on weight. It only made sense; with the hydrogen catalyst taking carbs and nutrition, she’d had to increase her intake. And without carefully planning her diet, she had ended up overcompensating. But, she wasn’t that fat!  
After a second or two, one of the others gasped, “are they getting bigger?”  
“Oh my god!” The queen bee shouted again. “You really did put balloons in there! Couldn’t you even remember to shut off the valve, you idiot?” The rest laughed even louder at that.  
Now, Jemma tried to escape, running off with her breasts and butt jiggling with each step. “Look at them wobble!” came one last shot. Jemma couldn’t be sure which one it was. Not that it mattered anyway.  
Safe in a bathroom, with the door locked from the inside, Jemma panted and squeezed her eyes shut. She wouldn’t cry, dammit. She wouldn’t give them the satisfaction. It didn’t really occur to her that no one was in the room with her, and it wouldn’t have mattered to her anyway. After a few minutes, the tears washed away her humiliation. A hot wave of anger dried her tears. Her eyes snapped open and she stared at herself in the mirror. This new feeling, this rage, was so much better than trying to fit in with those insipid buffoons. A new idea came into her mind, and she grinned again, this time not just malicious, but predatory. Already in her mind formed the basic specs for a machine to make them pay for their treatment of her. Of all the outcasts, the lessers. She’d make them pay. They'd all pay.  
Ignoring her still-inflating bosom and ass (she knew they’d be fine until the accelerant was done, and then she could blow out the excess), Jemma unlocked the door and stalked straight out of the building, heading home to finish her design and start making it.

The same day, as it turned out, Gwen and MJ met at the Watson home, just to hang out and talk.  
“So, have you thought about what you can do?” asked MJ.  
“What I can do?” wondered Gwen.  
“Yeah. You have powers now.”  
“You think I should be a superhero?” Gwen shot back, expressionless.  
MJ nodded, a little sheepishly.  
Gwen relaxed her pretense. “I’ve thought of it myself. I mean, with that new team operating out of Avengers Tower, they’ve proved that you don’t have to be thin and stacked to be heroes.”  
“And with their fans, nobody can say anymore that fat can’t be beautiful or attractive,” MJ answered.  
“Yeah.” Gwen looked down at her new body; she had put on weight in the last few weeks; continual overeating to keep her nutritional needs over the siphoning of carbs by the hydrogen catalyst had made her huge. Even uninflated, as she currently was (or when she was exerting her new core strength to keep herself constrained), her stomach hung over the waistband of her pants, forming a dome of soft flab. Glancing sideways at MJ’s bedroom mirror, she saw it stuck out a little past her breasts, themselves rounded and larger than they used to be. Now focusing on her new figure, she stood and faced sideways to the mirror, looking herself up and down. Her butt stuck out, stretching even her newest pair of pants, and her arms and legs bulged, jiggling when she moved. She hadn’t bothered to weigh herself, and it likely would have been light, anyway; she nearly always had some excess hydrogen inside her body. Even if it didn’t lift her off the ground, it still could throw her weight off. Looking herself over, though, she estimated that she was the size and proportions of a 300 pound woman (give or take).  
But MJ was quite right. With that new team of supersized superheroines, nobody said anything about her sudden gain, and she even got a few admiring glances from random men on the street. Experimentally, Gwen flexed her arms, then tensed her abdominals. She knew that the musculature was there, and she could feel the strength of it too, but not a hint of the muscles or the strength she knew she had was visible in the image.  
Sitting back down opposite MJ (and was she putting on a little weight too? Maybe. It was hard to tell), Gwen continued, “but honestly, I can’t think of anything, well, useful I can do with this. And what could I call myself, anyway?”  
“Oh, I don’t know,” MJ argued. “You might surprise yourself, when the chips are down. And, as for a name, how about ‘Balloon Girl’?”  
Gwen held a glare, saying, “I’m not going to even dignify that,” before she collapsed in laughter at the ridiculousness of the name, MJ joining her.

Another few weeks later, it was homecoming at the high school. Gwen and MJ were there, of course. Incredibly, Peter even managed to show up. As kick-off time got closer, the cheerleading squad ran out to the field, and set up for their starting routine.  
As they went, gradually, everybody started to notice a blimp coming close. Since many New York City high schools shared game fields with each other, and even some colleges, a blimp overhead wasn’t really unheard-of, but it was certainly weird, even for a homecoming game, even at a noted magnet school like theirs.  
But as it got closer, Gwen, sitting in the stands, thought she saw something odd. Nearer and nearer, and it came into better view. Suddenly, Gwen saw that there was no gondola beneath the inflated envelope.  
Closer still, and Gwen could see it wasn’t a usual sized balloon. It seemed maybe a tenth the volume of a regular blimp. It had no fins on it either, not a rudder, not an elevator flap, but Gwen saw odd projections on the envelope where they should be, and others on the front of the blimp.  
Squinting, Gwen strained to see what was on the envelope of the approaching balloon. Suddenly, it came into focus. “Oh, no,” she whispered.  
MJ and Peter, on either side of her, instantly looked at her. “What’s wrong?” whispered MJ.  
“That blimp,” she answered, nodding her head at it.  
Now Peter was looking up at it. “What about it?”  
“I don’t think it’s a blimp.”  
MJ looked up too. “What else could it be?” she asked.  
“I hope I’m wrong, because I don’t know what she could be up to. I think it’s Jemma.”  
“She’s got what happened to you too?” MJ said.  
“And it looks like she got more of it,” said Peter.  
“Well, of course,” said Gwen. “She took a tumble into the vat; I just got a little splashed on me.” As she spoke, she glanced at Peter. He wasn’t moving away yet, but she could see him tensed, ready to vanish so that Spider-man could come and help out, if needed.  
“What could she do?” he asked.  
“That’s the problem,” Gwen answered. “I’m not sure. I haven’t really been able to come up with anything, well, useful, this could do. But, she got a much larger dose than I did. Maybe she thought of something?”  
“Oh my god,” MJ said. “Are we heading for a superpowered school shooting?”  
Gwen’s face went grim, and she answered, “not exactly, I think. Remember, Jemma’s really good at tech. I’m afraid she’s up to something unpleasant, but nothing so...usual as gun violence. I have no idea what she might be planning, after that run-in she had with the cheerleaders last week.”  
MJ nodded, “yeah, I heard about that. Most people think it was just a little thing, and nobody believes what they said.”  
Peter looked at his two friends, “we do. And we know she might try something to get back at them.”  
Gwen nodded. “But how?” she wondered.  
Peter shrugged. “I can’t figure it out either. We’ll just have to keep alert, and wait to see what she’s up to.”  
“Should we warn everybody?” MJ asked.  
Gwen paused, then shook her head, more in helplessness than disagreement. “Warn them of what? A super-powered blimp is going to attack us?”  
Peter had to agree. “Even with the heros and stuff going on, I don’t think anybody would believe it, not until she actually starts whatever she might be planning.”  
Gwen sighed. “So we just need to try to be ready, and try to counter whatever it is.”  
Peter looked sharply at her, and MJ looked confused. “We?”  
Gwen looked over at MJ, purposefully ignoring Peter. “Okay, me. You know what? Let’s see if I can find some kind of...outfit I could use.”  
MJ nodded, and the two girls went off. Peter slipped away separately, changing into his spider-suit and staying out of sight.

Blown up larger than she’d ever tried before, Jemma floated towards the homecoming game. It was slow, yes, but silent, and with all the radio controlled toys around, and even blimps around sports games, she figured she’d be ignored (as she always was, except when people were mocking her) until she was ready. And letting them mock her again, for her inflated form before she got them would just add to her victory.  
As she drifted towards the game, she adjusted her course with her little high-pressure air jets, one in her left hand, one attached to each foot and all controlled by buttons on her left-hand jet. As she passed Manhattan skyscrapers, she caught sight of her body.  
She was less elongated than a real blimp. In shape, her body was now more like a standard hot air balloon, but a bit smaller, and of course without the opening at the bottom and the fire to heat up the air inside. Filled with hydrogen, naturally lighter than air, she needed no heat to float. She’d tightened up her cups and butt-cap and the panels on her new helmet to keep her face deflated, and let the “girdle” loose, so she was basically totally round, with no protrusions, except of course her head, and her limbs. Well, just her hands and feet; the rest of her arms and legs were engulfed by her massively rounded body. She clenched her right hand, reassuring herself that her device was still ready. She wouldn’t be able to aim it until she deflated back to something like normal, but it was prepped and ready to go.  
All she needed to do was to deflate and land at the game, then she’d get the whole bimbo-squad. She supposed she could do others too, but not unless they tried to stop her. Okay, or if they laughed at her. She was through being everybody’s joke.

Now, everyone at the game was standing still, staring at the blimp descending towards them. Eventually, even the least observant could see the head, hands and feet sticking out of the sides of it.  
The whole crowd gasped as one, when the blimp started to deflate, shrinking down to a person. The inflated envelope of the blimp was actually her body, encased in stretchy gray fabric. Her head was covered with an old-style flight cap, including flying goggles right out of a 1930’s movie covered her face down to her chin.  
Not even waiting for her body to completely deflate, the woman, still bloated and rounded like one of those inflatable sumo costumes, forced her arms towards each other past the pressure of her still-inflated body, grabbing some kind of weapon in both hands and spraying it at the cheerleading squad.  
With a fast series of pops, a sequence of small darts flew from the end of her weapon, each one striking one of the cheerleaders. “OW! Bitch!” Screamed the head cheerleader, echoed (more or less) by the rest of the squad.  
Before anyone could react or do anything else, each one of the cheerleaders started to swell.

Seconds later, Gwen appeared, covered neck-to-toe in a bright yellow skinsuit. Her hair was hidden under a full hood of the same color, and a dark domino mask covered her eyes. Trying for a dramatic entrance, she had climbed up to the top tier of the bleachers, then inflated herself slightly (using the adrenaline rush she already had) to get more distance and leaped off. She landed lightly on the field, halfway between Jemma and the cheerleaders. She stood calmly, and deflated herself, flexing her abdominals and back muscles. “That’s enough! Reverse that right now!” she called loudly.  
“What if I can’t?” Jemma taunted back.  
“You’re too good an inventor. You have an antidote. Use it. NOW!”  
“Or what? You look like you have powers like me, and I know what you can do.”  
“You don’t. You know what you can do. And so do I, Jemma.”  
At that, the other woman exploded in rage. “NO! Not Jemma. She’s been laughed at her whole life. I’m Hindenburg! Just as my great-grandfather survived that disaster, I’ve survived every disaster that came at me! And turned them to my advantage, or avenged them!”  
Just then, MJ called from the stands, where she’d gone back after Gwen had leaped, “Ballonette! She’s stalling! Look at the girls!”  
Immediately, Jemma whirled to fire at MJ for interfering. She hit her and MJ started swelling too. At the exact same time, Gwen spun to look at the cheerleaders.  
They were bigger than she ever got. Totally round, and so distended that their bodies were throbbing in time with their pulses. Gwen couldn’t even see their heads, or any limbs, at all; they’d been enveloped by the inflating torsos. All that remained of human figures on the 5+ foot diameter spheres were the breasts, bloated out like weather balloons, nearly 3 feet in diameter each, and domed cheeks on their butts, jutting out another foot or so from their spherical surfaces. Gwen panicked for a second, then she remembered that, when the pressure got too high, the hydrogen would be forced out their pores. For another second, she thought that she wanted to examine those darts; if Jemma could manage even a temporary “latex” treatment for skin, Gwen wanted to know how.  
But, while Gwen was distracted and staring, the hydrogen volume, already more than enough to swell the women so large that they’d long since shredded all their clothing, now started to lift them up, pulling them skyward. The first to get hit, the head cheerleader, and the ringleader of any likely bullying Jemma had gotten, was already more than 10 feet up. Gwen leapt, inflating herself as quickly as she could, to give herself more height. Grabbing onto the girl’s foot, she tensed her abdominals and squeezed out the hydrogen, returning her weight and pulling them both down.  
As they descended, Gwen looked around for anything to anchor her until the hydrogen leaked out, and snapped a glare at Jemma as she did.  
“Ooh, scary,” Jemma taunted. “Let’s keep you busy--busier, so that I can get out of here. I’m done here, anyway.”  
“Ballonette!” came MJ’s scream. Gwen spun, and saw her inflating and rising, along with the rest of the cheerleading squad. Still looking around at the spectacle, she heard a series of pops behind her. Before she could move, more darts flew, hitting the crowd. For a moment, Gwen had to be impressed with Jemma’s aim; she’d hit the women, only the women, and all the women.  
Paralyzed with indecision, Gwen tried to figure out what to do; try to save all the women, or try to stop Jemma. Then, Spider-man appeared from the bleachers, _thwipp_ ing web-lines one after another, to catch all the balloon-women as the rose. Keeping hold of his end of the lines, Spidey looped them around one of the steel supports for the bleachers and pulled, hauling the women back down, and gathering them together, until they hung just above the ground, looking like a massive set of grapes. With the momentum of the pull, and the breeze blowing through, the women bounced against each other, looking more like a bunch of flesh-colored grapes on a vine, bulging and bloated totally round (even their breasts were just smaller spheres bouncing on their chests), than actual human women, but they were safe.

As soon as she saw Peter, Gwen whirled to see Jemma inflating and lifting off. She jumped after the other woman, forcing more hydrogen and using the momentum from her leap to catch up to her. Gwen managed to catch hold of Jemma’s foot, and moved hand-over-hand up to her waist. With both of them filled with hydrogen, and inflating still larger, they rose fast.  
“What are you doing?” Jemma demanded. “You know the hydrogen catalyst is a one-way process. There is no antidote.”  
“So they’re stuck like that?!” Gwen shot back.  
Jemma actually sighed. “No, you imbecile. You have to know that the hydrogen will seep out, once it’s no longer actively being generated.”  
Actually, Gwen had actually believed that. She was relieved that Jemma had verified it for her. “So they’ll just float up till they suffocate in the thin air, or freeze, or actually pop in the lower air pressure? Do you think I don’t know about atmospheric properties?”  
Slipping up higher, Gwen got one hand around Jemma’s gun, trying to wrestle it away. Both women were immensely rounded now, far larger than either had tried before, easily 15 feet in diameter, and still growing. Neither one could get both hands together to help her grab the gun; both their bodies had essentially encompassed their whole forms, excepting only their hands, and their heads. And even those were perilously close to being engulfed.  
With one last desperate wrench, Gwen’s new physical strength let her yank the gun out of Jemma’s grip. Starting to deflate herself, she spun the gun around in her one hand, trying to study it. On one swing, it went off, firing one last dart into Jemma.  
Instantly, Jemma exploded outwards, doubling, then tripling in volume in seconds. Screaming in rage, Jemma realized that she wouldn’t be able to deflate the least until her drug ran its course. Only a little worried about hitting, or even surpassing, her physical limits, she flipped fail-safe switch on her right glove, compressing the “girdle” and squeezing the hydrogen out of her. But too much was being made, too fast, and all the inward pressure of the girdle did was slow down her explosive inflation a little. Very little, actually. Still confident in her body’s abilities, she resigned herself to escaping a little less under her own power than she’d prefer.  
Realizing that she’d shot Jemma, Gwen panicked, and the gun slipped out of her grip, plummeting hundreds of feet to the ground, splintering into shards. Gwen swore under her breath, and kept deflating herself, heading for the ground.

Back at the field and totally deflated back to normal, she broke the news to the women that Hindenburg hadn’t actually had an antidote. Immediately following, Gwen tried to reassure each one as she worked on her, telling them that they would expel the remaining hydrogen gradually over the next few days. And that, since basically every female there had had the same thing happen, everybody should be in the same situation.  
Finally, she went around to all the victims, using her new strength to gently squeeze as much of the hydrogen out of each woman. Each one seemed to have reacted differently to Jemma’s drug. With some of them, the gas seeped out pores, like Gwen herself (and likely Jemma). Others, it seemed to collect in their lungs, resulting in mammoth burps as the gas expelled. Still others seemed to have collected the gas in their stomachs. They, unfortunately, farted loudly with each squeeze. And a few of them, expelled the gas from every orifice, belching and farting long and loud each time Gwen worked on them.  
Trying to regulate her strength, to have enough to get to all the women, she didn’t squeeze any of them back to completely normal. Instead, she left each one slightly bloated over her normal size.  
As she was working on MJ, she asked, “Ballonette?”  
MJ reflexively tried to shrug, but she was still to round and bloated to manage it. She said, “I looked it up. A ballonet is a little balloon inside a blimp that lets the pilot alter the gas volume inside it, letting them ascend or descend as they want.”  
“Hmm,” said Gwen, still gently squeezing the gas out of MJ, “I like it.”  
Gas expelling from MJ, all she could answer was a long, loud belch. It lasted for nearly a full minute as most of it spewed from her wide open mouth. As MJ finally finished, both she and Gwen laughed quietly at it.

By the following Monday, the women were all nearly back to normal, just a little more buxom and bloated than normal, but all were well along the way back. Everyone was complaining about Hindenburg and everyone seemed to know for sure that it was Jemma, and rumors about her flew around the school. A few people wondered who the new “Ballonette” was, but since Gwen took care to keep herself bloated just a little, and everybody knew that Ballonette was back to “normal” when she’d left, Gwen felt safe in her anonymity.  
Talking to MJ, and even Peter, over the weekend, Gwen decided that she could keep up the hero work, as long as she kept practicing and made a few plans for likely events, so she wouldn’t mess up like she did during Hindenburg’s attack, and her ensuing chase.


End file.
